07-05-2017, 12:39 PM
Nothing. That is all Takezo knew for the longest time. He did not dream of anything, he was not fully conscious, only aware that he was drifting through the nothing like some deep, weightless ocean of… nothing. It was peaceful, it felt almost relaxing to have all the weight of the world off his shoulders. No pain. No worries. If this was what he would expect from every death in the Omniverse, then he would never fear it. Timelessness in a place without stress might have been boring for others, but for the Ronin, it was a pleasantry.
The world snapped open like the blink of an eye. After seeing the Rage Mage with his heart, Takezo’s world had snapped shut just as fast. Was that all death meant? Winking out of existence for a brief moment where all pain is absolved? Was it like this for everyone, or did each Prime experience their own personal transition between lives?
So many questions to fill the void and so many were unanswered as the world turns to white. Takezo blinked away the surreal first impression of the Nexus as he once again looked upon the fountain. The world was silent, as it had been before. Upon looking around the pool he noticed the corpses had been moved and the blood was gone. Whether cleaned or evaporated or simply faded, there was no stagnant memory left upon this world of the pitiful secondaries.
Takezo smirked. They were mortal and feared death. He did not. It meant if any Secondary were to dare face him, they knew the consequences and believed they could take him on. The ronin chuckled to himself, his left hand resting lazily upon his sword.
It took a moment to realize something was… off. His reflection in the water was washed out and the longer he looked at it the more he noticed it. He looked upon his hand and through it he could faintly see the lines of the fountain. For the first time, he felt panic. A swipe of his hand phased through the fountain harmlessly.
Awareness crept on him. First it was his new life, then his ghostly state. The next thing was the true situation going on around him. There was a man in golden attire – a very familiar attire at that. It was that Wu Kong fellow from the Abyss. Correction, from Dante’s Abyss, that was hanging with Abyss. He was the only member of the Golden Alliance that he has not gotten to cut to bits yet.
Someone else was there. She was unfamiliar to him, but she appeared very powerful. The way the female raced across the battle field, soaking up the golden-boy’s ichor… it was a thrilling display. By instinct and will, the death shroud flickered. The swordsman appeared before the two Fist users, grinning.
Chakravartin and Cirrus hesitate only slightly when they notice his presence. Cirrus’ eyes flick to the sword, then up to meet the man’s gaze. For a moment she was about to say something, then the Prime steps towards her. Something made her flinch. It was just a moment before she regained her composure.
The golden robed god watched as his former enemy stepped past him, apparently wanting to try his hand at the speedster. “First day reborn, and I get to meet the enemy of my enemy.”
“Does that mean you want to help me kill the god?”
“No.” Cirrus dared again to meet the man’s gaze. “It means I will kill you first.” He stopped, standing square with the distant Fist user. To the untrained eye, it did not seem like he was poised to attack. He was.
Cirrus pushed aside the sense of dread without much difficulty. “So you just show up in the middle of a confrontation and steal the spotlight? That’s just rude!”
“You two could work together to fight me…” Takezo offered, glancing over his shoulder at Chakravartin. The two primes both felt ill. The sickness left over from their revival was harsh, perhaps more so for Takezo who had literally only just reincarnated.
The swordsman’s appearance mocked his previous death. His clothing was in tatters, scorched and cut and ripped till anything that remained was clinging by threads. There was a long scar upon his chest, over his heart. It might be obvious that this was his mortal wound. Chakravartin may not share the remnants of his death, this was just the swordsman’s little trophy; a sign of his immortality and his fearless stance towards death.
“As if I would side with him!” Cirrus responds. “You can barely stand anyway!”
The ronin’s smirk widened to a full grin. His head tilts as he looks at the violet-handed Saru. “I think you will like being dead. It’s quite pleasant, like drifting in a cool pond with no light.” At least, that is how his death was.
“Are you going to attack?” Those cold eyes, malice poured from them. The Vampire, who’s life revolved around the ichor of life, may not even have that much blood lust in her gaze. The swordsman’s aura of death showed clearly his intent. Cirrus may think Chakravartin evil, but this man did not even try to hide the wickedness of his soul.
The world snapped open like the blink of an eye. After seeing the Rage Mage with his heart, Takezo’s world had snapped shut just as fast. Was that all death meant? Winking out of existence for a brief moment where all pain is absolved? Was it like this for everyone, or did each Prime experience their own personal transition between lives?
So many questions to fill the void and so many were unanswered as the world turns to white. Takezo blinked away the surreal first impression of the Nexus as he once again looked upon the fountain. The world was silent, as it had been before. Upon looking around the pool he noticed the corpses had been moved and the blood was gone. Whether cleaned or evaporated or simply faded, there was no stagnant memory left upon this world of the pitiful secondaries.
Takezo smirked. They were mortal and feared death. He did not. It meant if any Secondary were to dare face him, they knew the consequences and believed they could take him on. The ronin chuckled to himself, his left hand resting lazily upon his sword.
It took a moment to realize something was… off. His reflection in the water was washed out and the longer he looked at it the more he noticed it. He looked upon his hand and through it he could faintly see the lines of the fountain. For the first time, he felt panic. A swipe of his hand phased through the fountain harmlessly.
Awareness crept on him. First it was his new life, then his ghostly state. The next thing was the true situation going on around him. There was a man in golden attire – a very familiar attire at that. It was that Wu Kong fellow from the Abyss. Correction, from Dante’s Abyss, that was hanging with Abyss. He was the only member of the Golden Alliance that he has not gotten to cut to bits yet.
Someone else was there. She was unfamiliar to him, but she appeared very powerful. The way the female raced across the battle field, soaking up the golden-boy’s ichor… it was a thrilling display. By instinct and will, the death shroud flickered. The swordsman appeared before the two Fist users, grinning.
Chakravartin and Cirrus hesitate only slightly when they notice his presence. Cirrus’ eyes flick to the sword, then up to meet the man’s gaze. For a moment she was about to say something, then the Prime steps towards her. Something made her flinch. It was just a moment before she regained her composure.
The golden robed god watched as his former enemy stepped past him, apparently wanting to try his hand at the speedster. “First day reborn, and I get to meet the enemy of my enemy.”
“Does that mean you want to help me kill the god?”
“No.” Cirrus dared again to meet the man’s gaze. “It means I will kill you first.” He stopped, standing square with the distant Fist user. To the untrained eye, it did not seem like he was poised to attack. He was.
Cirrus pushed aside the sense of dread without much difficulty. “So you just show up in the middle of a confrontation and steal the spotlight? That’s just rude!”
“You two could work together to fight me…” Takezo offered, glancing over his shoulder at Chakravartin. The two primes both felt ill. The sickness left over from their revival was harsh, perhaps more so for Takezo who had literally only just reincarnated.
The swordsman’s appearance mocked his previous death. His clothing was in tatters, scorched and cut and ripped till anything that remained was clinging by threads. There was a long scar upon his chest, over his heart. It might be obvious that this was his mortal wound. Chakravartin may not share the remnants of his death, this was just the swordsman’s little trophy; a sign of his immortality and his fearless stance towards death.
“As if I would side with him!” Cirrus responds. “You can barely stand anyway!”
The ronin’s smirk widened to a full grin. His head tilts as he looks at the violet-handed Saru. “I think you will like being dead. It’s quite pleasant, like drifting in a cool pond with no light.” At least, that is how his death was.
“Are you going to attack?” Those cold eyes, malice poured from them. The Vampire, who’s life revolved around the ichor of life, may not even have that much blood lust in her gaze. The swordsman’s aura of death showed clearly his intent. Cirrus may think Chakravartin evil, but this man did not even try to hide the wickedness of his soul.